The expression upon the girl’s face, as she gazed out at the two men, was so unmistakably one of admiration of the most vivid kind, that Nurse Bessie smiled indulgently. “A good-looking fellow, isn’t he?” she said with a nod in the direction of the two figures. To her surprise, the girl turned towards her with a look of ecstasy in her thin face. “Good-looking!” she echoed in an awestruck tone. “Oh, don’t call him that! He’s so much more than that! It seems to me,” she added, in a low voice, as again her eyes wandered in the direction of the two gentlemen, “that I’ve never seen, no, and never even imagined, any face either so handsome or--so--noble. It’s because he’s so good, so much better and greater than other men that he is so handsome.” The old nurse sat amazed and perplexed by this enthusiasm, which exceeded so far even her own warmth of admiration. She did not dare to smile, although the girl’s tone was so outrageously, childishly vehement as to throw her into considerable astonishment. “Well, Mr. Rotherfield is generally thought to be nice-looking,” she said, “but I don’t know as he’s all you take him for.” The girl’s fair face, out of which the glow of colour brought by her enthusiasm had already faded a little, looked at her with a frown of slight perplexity. “Mr. Rotherfield? Who is that?” she asked. Old Bessie stared. “Why, the gentleman you’ve admired so much, the young gentleman that’s walking with Sir Robert. That’s his ward, Mr. Rotherfield.” A deeper flush than had yet appeared in Rhoda’s face now spread quickly over it, and she lowered her eyelids quickly. “I didn’t notice him,” she said. “I was speaking about Sir Robert.” The old nurse uttered a low cry of surprise. Then a smile, indulgent, amused, appeared on her face. “Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him called so nice-looking,” she said. “He’s very well, of course, and he’s got a good face, and a nice face, but I’ve never heard tell he was considered handsome.” The girl looked up again, the most innocent surprise in every feature. “Not handsome!” she said under her breath. “Why, it seems to me I never saw any face so--so beautiful! He’s like a picture, not like any man I ever saw before. To look at him makes me feel humiliated at the thought that I should have been the means of causing him to hurt himself, and yet it makes me proud too to think that he should have done what he did for me!” Beginning timidly, the girl grew more and more enthusiastic as she went on, till she ended with fire in her blue eyes, and sat with her lips parted in a sort of ecstasy, gazing out of the window at the figure of the wholly unconscious gentleman who was now sauntering back towards the house. Sir Robert, who had hurt his arm in his efforts to stop the runaway bicycle, carried it in a sling, and Rhoda’s eyes softened and filled with tears as she noted the fact. The old nurse’s face began to grow prim.